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Desmond came out of the bedroom, looking deliciously huggable in a soft gray cardigan over a Led Zeppelin T-shirt and his paper-thin at-home jeans. “I thought I heard a circus setting up shop out here. But nope, no elephants. Just my girl.”

I wish that had been the first time someone had compared me to an elephant.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I sighed.

“Where else would I be?” He smiled. “I live here.”

I crossed the room in two steps and threw myself into his arms.

Desmond sneezed. He set me down and sneezed again. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“No.” I never wore perfume. It would be scent overload.

He licked his lips, and a devastated look came over him all at once. He pulled me close, his nose dragging along my neck, and again he sneezed, harder this time.

“Jesus, Des. Are you allergic to me or something?” I was kidding, but the look on his face was too serious to ignore.

“Can you taste me?” he asked, his voice tight with fear.

“Of course I—” But I had to stop when I realized I hadn’t really thought about it. I touched my tongue to my lips. Sucked the inside of my cheeks. Breathed cool air between my teeth. Nothing. Nothing to remind me of margaritas, or key lime pie, or popsicles. “No. I can’t.”

Pain chased worry though his eyes, and he pushed me away.

“You and Lucas…you completed the ceremony, didn’t you? During the full moon.”

I’d planned to tell him, but I had hoped we might have more than five minutes together before I had to.

“Yes.”

“We were supposed to have time, Secret.”

“I didn’t know. We hadn’t planned for it to happen there. I didn’t even know what it was.” I reached for him, but he sidestepped my touch.

“All I can smell is him. I can’t taste you anymore.”

“Desmond…”

He sat on the couch, staring at the fireplace. “He told me he’d wait. He told me it would be at least another month.” He was talking to himself, but the words cut me like tiny little knives.

“Desmond, look at me.”

“It was bad enough when he said he’d send me away if I made a fuss. But this…” He turned to me, nothing but naked anguish written on his features. “How could you let him do this?”

“We had to.”

“Is that what he told you?” Desmond laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Because he’s been so fucking honest with you in the past?”

I came to stand in front of him, kneeling on the carpet between his legs. I took his hands, and this time he didn’t fight me. I kissed his fingertips and held them over my heart. “He didn’t tell me this would impact you and me. I swear to you.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

“But believe me when I say we had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

I shook my head. “When has free will ever come before the needs of the pack?”

He opened his mouth then closed it. His brow furrowed. “When did the needs of the pack ever outweigh what you wanted?” Those words hurt me more than a slap would have. Wasn’t I doing all of this for the pack? Did he honestly think I wanted this? “Did you stop to think about what this would do?”


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal